To Hell and Back
by itstartswithj
Summary: Four months in Hell is a long time to reflect on dying alone. When Dean is given a second chance, he dedicates it to getting back to his first love, Carly O'Reilly. But it turns out a lot has changed in four months-including the relationship between Sam and Carly. Sam/OC/Dean
1. Second Chance

**Summary: ****Four months in Hell is a long time to reflect on dying alone. When Dean is given a second chance, he dedicates it to getting back to his first love, Carly O'Reilly. But it turns out a lot has changed in four months-including the relationship between Sam and Carly. **

**Amber Heard as Carly O'Reilly**

* * *

**Chapter One: Second Chance**

It took two days of hitchhiking for Dean to reach Lawrence, Kansas, and he walked to Bobby's place. The old man would probably have a heart attack at the sight of Dean at his front door, but Dean couldn't think of a better way to break the news that he was back from Hell, and he was in a hurry. He didn't know where Sam was, or if he was even alive following their attempt to kill Lilith what felt like years ago.

Finally he mustered up some courage and lifted his bloody hand, tapping his knuckles on the door two times before backing up and waiting.

When the door yanked open and Bobby saw Dean standing there, he was completely silent for a few moments. Then he sighed and pressed the screen door open, waving Dean in behind him.

"You hungry?" was all Bobby said as they went to the kitchen.

"Nah, but I would kill for a beer right about now."

Bobby grinned and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of Miller Lite and handing it to Dean. Dean took a big swig of it, aware of Bobby watching him. Surely the beer had holy water in it, and Bobby seemed satisfied that it wasn't just a demon possessing Dean's body. Bobby was ready to slice into Dean's arm with a silver knife to get rid of the shape shifter possibility as well, but he just knew this was Dean.

"Got some leftover burgers," Bobby told him.

"Not hungry. Where's Sammy?" Dean took another gulp of his beer and decided that nothing had ever tasted so good. Those first few hours after waking up the pain in Dean's throat had been awful, the thirst indescribable.

"On a hunt over in Oklahoma. He should be getting back sometime today or tomorrow."

With the cold beer in his hand and the knowledge that his little brother was alright, Dean finally allowed himself to breathe. Leaving Bobby, still shocked and somewhat speechless, he went to the living room and fell back on the couch, turning on the TV. The date scrolled across the bottom of the news channel and Dean shook his head.

_Four whole months..._

He didn't remember the specifics of Hell, but flashes of thoughts bobbled through his head painfully. With Sam's wellbeing acknowledged and pushed aside, the most prominent thought was _Carly_.

Carly O'Reilly was Dean's first real love. Although the Winchesters never stayed around Lawrence long, they were in town long enough and frequently enough for relationships to build. She was Sammy's age and the two were best friends long before Dean was in the picture. When she was eighteen and Dean was twenty-three they met, and by the following year their relationship had grown into more.

But then Sam went off to college on the west coast and Carly went to Iowa State and Dean began hunting more and more with his father. The long-distance relationship lasted barely four months and ended in a heated phone call which ended in Carly telling Dean she hated him.

He never attempted to rekindle the relationship or even a friendship. Four years had passed and the harsh feelings, although on the backburner, were as fresh as the day of the breakup.

Dean wanted to see her. He didn't want to die alone, and he didn't want his history with Carly to end there. He wanted to see her _now_.

He stood and faced Bobby, who was standing in the doorway watching him. "Where can I find Carly O'Reilly? The girl I used to da-"

"I know who you're talkin' about," Bobby interrupted. "She lives over in the Remington Square Apartments. But I don't know if-"

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean yanked his boots back on, pushed his arms through the sleeves of his denim jacket, and pushed the door open.

"Dean," Bobby called, and Dean glanced back. The older man grinned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "The Impala's out in the garage."

"Thanks, Bobby."

Behind the wheel of his baby, Dean finally felt like he was out of Hell. Things could go back to normal now. He still had questions and a lot of stuff still didn't make sense, but Sam was alive, the Impala was in one piece, and the world was still spinning. Dean had never been happier.

At the apartment building the first two doors he knocked on had no answers, and the folks in the next two had no clue who Carly O'Reilly was. Finally an older woman had some answers for Dean.

"Oh, you mean Carly _Dunn_," she exclaimed after Dean had questioned her. "Of course, she's such a sweetheart. She's up on the third floor, second door on the left. Apartment 3B, I believe."

"Thanks."

Dean wasn't even sure this was the right Carly, considering the old woman was convinced she was Carly _Dunn_, but it was the only lead he had. Bobby had said she lived here, and the old woman hadn't mentioned any other Carlys in the building. If it was her, great; if not, he'd worry about it later, after he saw Sammy.

He raised his hand to knock, but before he could the door flew open and a familiar blonde wearing a familiar t-shirt stood there. She was grinning flirtatioiusly, but then she saw Dean's face, and down she went.

Dean surged forward and caught Carly around her waist before she could smack her head on the ground. Holding her up, he cupped the back of her head with his hand to look at her. She was out cold.

"Hope you don't mind me coming in," he mumbled, reaching down and gripping the backs of her knees and sweeping them up off the ground. He went inside, kicked the door shut behind him. He glanced at the tiny apartment for just one moment before he carefully laid Carly on the couch.

For a moment he just looked at her, happier than ever to see her, but then he remembered the the familiar shirt she was wearing. The long-sleeved blue and brown flannel shirt that completely swallowed her small frame.

Sam's shirt.


	2. Break the News

**CHAPTER TWO: BREAK THE NEWS**

When Sam got in to Lawrence the first thing he did was stop in at Bobby's place. The older man always felt better if Sam came by immediately after a hunt, just to reassure himself that Sam was still Sam and he hadn't done anything stupid to attempt to bring Dean back. Although four months had passed since Dean's run-in with the hellhounds, the memory was still as sharp and fresh in his mind as if it'd happened yesterday.

Bobby was sitting on the porch when Sam rolled his '69 Chevy Camaro into the gravel driveway. Once he turned the key and the rumble of the engine faded away, the familiar sounds of the Singer house took over. A country song could be faintly heard from inside, funneling out through the screen door, and Bobby's boots tapped on the rickety wooden porch as Sam jogged up the steps.

"How'd the hunt go?" Bobby asked as Sam leaned against the railing and took a swig of the waiting bottle of beer. It was practically a tradition to take a drink of holy water-laced beer after a hunt, as if the tattoo wasn't enough to assure Bobby that Sam wouldn't get possessed.

"Fine. Nothing I couldn't handle."

The two drank in silence for a couple of minutes, waving at a few familiar friends who drove by, before Bobby finally cleared his throat and averted his eyes from Sam's.

"I've got somethin' to tell you," Bobby began. "And I need you to hear me out before you go runnin' to Carly."

At his girlfriend's name, Sam straightened, worry lines etched on his forehead. "Bobby, what's going on and what does it have to do with Carly?"

"Dean's back."

A bird chirped from a nest built in the corner of the porch roof. A car rumbled by, kicking up gravel. The song on the radio switched over to something by Kenny Chesney. But Sam didn't look away from Bobby like...like he'd kicked a puppy or something.

"That's a sick joke, Bobby," Sam finally uttered.

"It ain't no joke, boy, and don't accuse me of making light of your brother's situation!" Bobby stood up and got closer to Sam, not breaking eye contact. "He's back, Sam. I don't know how and I don't know why, and I don't think he knows much himself either. He just showed up at my door and stuck around for a little while before he got it in his mind that he wanted to go see Carly."

"And you told him where she was?! Bobby, Dean's _gone_! He's in Hell-get it through your head! That was probably some shape shifter or a sick demon possessing his body, and you sent him to Carly!" Sam grabbed his keys and set off toward the Camaro.

"You think I was stupid enough to send him off without checking all that first!" Bobby called after him. Just before Sam peeled off and set off towards Carly's apartment, Bobby added, "Don't believe me if you want, Sammy, but that man at Carly's is your brother!"

* * *

The Camaro blasted across town and it was either sheer luck or a gift from the angels that Sam wasn't pulled over. His speedometer showed speeds that rivaled Interstate speeds down Main Street, and when he squealed to a stop in the parking lot he cursed at the sight of the Impala.

He rocketed up the first set of stairs and ran into Mrs. Cook, the old woman who made a habit of delivering him and Carly pies weekly.

"Oh, Sam!" She grinned up at him and, although he was antsy to get up to the third floor, he paused. "How was your business trip?"

"Fantastic, Mrs. Cook. If you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry to get to Carly, but I'll be sure to stop by later."

"Oh, yes, go!" she called as Sam set off up the next flight of stairs. "Oh, wait, Sam, I just remembered!" He paused and sighed. "A gentleman stopped by asking for a Carly about an hour ago. I'm not sure if he's left or not."

"Thanks, Mrs. Cook. I'll see you around."

When Sam finally reached 3B and tried the door, it was locked. He frantically patted his jacket pockets and was about to insert the key when the door pulled open, and there was Dean.

Or the asshole pretending to be Dean.

"Sammy." Dean grinned at his brother, who was breathing heavily and looking at him like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Not that Dean blamed him. "I'm back, man." Dean opened his arms and stepped towards Sam with the intention of hugging him.

Sam, however, was having none of it. He pushed "Dean" aside and stepped into his girlfriend's apartment. Seeing Carly unconscious on the couch, in the shirt she always wore when Sam was scheduled to be arriving home, his shirt, caused him to fume. He turned back to "Dean" and glared at him.

"What did you do to her?" he bit out.

"I didn't do anything," Dean insisted. He held his arms out, gesturing to himself. "Sammy, it's me. It's Dean. I don't know how I'm back, I don't know who pulled me out of Hell, but it's me. If you need proof I'm willing to guzzle holy water and poke myself with a silver knife."

"Let's do it, then."

Following proof that Dean was in fact Dean, which still wasn't enough for Sam, who then thoroughly interviewed him to reassure himself that it really was his brother, they hugged it out.

Sitting at the table with a pizza ordered from Pizza Hut, some paper plates, and a liter bottle of Mountain Dew, there was no time for the Winchester brothers to catch up on four months of missed time together. Instead they analyzed all the possibilities of what could have possibly raised Dean from Hell.

With no solid answers or even ideas, the only comfort Sam found in the conversation was that Dean didn't remember his time in Hell. It was a tiny spot of light in this dark situation.

By eight o'clock they were both nursing beers. It was some girly drink with a lime aftertaste, but it was all Carly had in the fridge and the situation felt semi-familiar to the Winchester boys, and right now familiarity was all that was getting them through.

"So I think we might be ignoring the elephant in the room," Sam finally announced.

"What's that?" Dean knew exactly what Sam was talking about, but was trying to push it away. He didn't want to think about the possibility that he'd left a door open before going to Hell, and Sam had taken full advantage of it.

He didn't want to think about his little brother with the girl he still loved.

"Carly."

They both peered over the half wall separating the living room from the kitchen. Carly hadn't yet stirred, but had at some point rolled onto her side. It was a familiar sight to both Winchester boys.

Dean remembered when he'd dated Carly all those years ago. She'd been so sweet, so shy and innocent and such a contrast to his drinking and flirting ways. Now, though, he and his brother were drinking lime beers they'd found in her fridge and she was waiting home for her new boyfriend in little more than his too-large shirt.

A lot had changed, obviously.

"Yeah, before we get into that," Dean sighed after averting his eyes from Carly's familiar smooth, long legs, "why's she going by Carly Dunn now?"

Sam shrugged. "She doesn't want to be associated with her father, I guess. The guy's always been a worthless drunk, but things have gotten a lot worse these past couple of years. He's in and out of jail more than we cheat death. Or, y'know, don't." Sam eyed his brother. "So you really don't remember anything? About Hell?"

"I've been getting flashes more and more frequently. When I crawled up out of that box six feet under I didn't even remember the hellhounds, but now I remember that and bits and pieces of Hell are coming back to me." Dean paused, shuddered. "It was awful, Sammy."

The boys sat in silence following that, but it didn't take Dean long to down the rest of his beer.

It was a little after nine o'clock when they heard Carly beginning to stir. She grunted and the couch springs squeaked as she moved around.

Dean looked over at Sam to see how they should approach this.

"I told her you were dead," Sam mumbled, casting his eyes back down.

"Well." Dean put his empty beer bottle down and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. "I guess now's as good a time as any to break the news, eh?"

"How much of the news?" Sam spat through gritted teeth.

"All of it."


	3. Not Crazy

**CHAPTER THREE: NOT CRAZY**

"Wait here," Sam mouthed to Dean, and he stood up and exited the kitchen, not wanting Carly to see Dean and start asking questions just yet.

In their three months together, Sam was just as honest as he felt he could be without dragging Carly into anything too dangerous. As far as she knew, when he was off on hunts he was on business trips. Evidently Dean had the same idea when they were together, because when she was at college and Dean was out hunting he told her he was on a road trip with his dad.

But none of that was what worried Sam. The biggest truth he'd told Carly was that Dean was dead. A bad car wreck, he'd told her. But how was he supposed to explain his supposed return to a normal girl when he knew of paranormal things and couldn't even explain it to himself?

He wasn't going to risk her sanity by throwing all of this on her. Slowly, gradually they would work their way towards the truth-or at least as much of it he found fit.

"Hey," he breathed, picking up Carly's feet and sitting down, dropping them in his lap. He leaned over to her, grinning back at her tired smile, and pushed a lock of dirty blonde hair away from her face.

"Hi," she sighed back. She inhaled deeply and rubbed her eyes before dropping her hands and looking at him with her lower lip stuck out. "Sorry I slept through your arrival. I had the weirdest dream, and..." She shook her head. "Whatever. You're finally home, and I've missed you so much, and I'm wearing your shirt..." She edged up until she was straddling his lap and playfully tugging at the top button of Sam's shirt she was wearing.

Feeling guilty that his brother was just in the other room, hearing all of this, Sam caught Carly's wrists and held them in place. When she looked dejected at his rejection and moved to stand up, he pulled her back by her wrists and brushed a light kiss over the knuckles of her right hand.

"Not now, okay?" He cupped the back of her head and pulled her forward, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Go get dressed. We're, uh, having a visitor."

Carly was slightly baffled with Sam's odd behavior. Usually when he got home from a long business trip they would stay in, order Chinese takeout or something and just take it easy. But she went back to her bedroom to get dressed nonetheless.

After pulling on some worn jean shorts and a gray Iowa State hoodie, she folded up Sam's flannel and tossed it on the dresser. She wasn't going to get angry with him, but to get back at him for ruining their tradition she would be sleeping in sweatpants tonight. And to think she'd shaved her legs for tonight.

She tried not to think about her surreal dream of Dean, but it was impossible not to. It'd felt so real, so real she didn't even remember laying down on the couch to take a nap in the first place. And his green eyes... God, she hadn't seen them in years, but they were exactly like she remembered them. Soft, deep, unwavering as they took her in as if he was in as much awe to see her as she was to see him.

But she couldn't think of things like that. She was with Sam now. Sweet, gentle, caring Sam who was just as torn up over Dean's death as she was, but had helped her get through it and let her do the same for him in return.

Gathering her tangled hair into a sloppy ponytail, she went to the bathroom to take out her contacts. Having fallen asleep in them, her eyes were red and irritated, and she finally balanced her glasses on her nose and headed out to the living room.

Only to find Sam and Dean sitting on the couch.

"God, wake up!" she demanded harshly, fisting her hands and slamming them against her temple.

"Hey, hey!" Sam and Dean both moved to stand, but Dean beat his brother to the punch. He caught Carly's wrists in a firm grip and yanked her right up against his chest. "I'm real, okay? Look at me, _feel _me, I'm real, Carly!" His emerald eyes searched her face, which was now tearstreaked.

"I'm not crazy," she whispered quietly, and then louder insisted, "I'm not."

"You're right-you're not crazy." Sam stood and moved to stand close by Carly's side. "I made a mistake. Dean must not have been dead like I thought he was."

Dean shot a look at his brother. They were way past the point of lying to Carly. She'd already been dragged into their world just by being with each of them, and she deserved the truth. It wasn't fair to her anymore, but he had no choice but to follow Sam. He was the one she would believe right now, not the ghost of her ex-boyfriend.

"But you said you buried him! It's been _months_, Sam, he has to be dead!"

"He was with a friend when the car crashed!" Sam insisted, grasping at straws to keep Carly out of anything supernatural. "The body was burnt-we thought it was Dean but we must've been wrong! He must've been delirious and walked away from the crash!"

"Is..." Carly turned her gaze back to the green ones that she'd missed so much, not just in these past few months but also over the past couple years. "Is that true, Dean?"

He chuckled, mentally cursing his brother for not just being honest. "That's what happened."

And then Carly did the absolute last thing Dean was expecting her to do. She squeezed him in a tight hug, her face nuzzled into the collar of his jacket like she used to do when they were together.

Sam cleared his throat, which caused Carly to jump away and look at the floor, her cheeks flushed.

"Well, uh." Dean shoved his hands in his pocket, halfway smug at the shy grin Carly shot towards him. "How's it goin'?"

Carly half-laughed and half-sobbed. "Aside from thinking my ex was dead? Pretty good."

Dean looked down. "I've missed you, Carly."

"Um." Sam cleared his throat, feeling more awkward than he'd felt in a long time. "I'm going to step outside for a few."

Out on the deck he leaned on the railing and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He wasn't worried about the two of them in there together; Carly and Dean both cared too much about him to hurt him that way. At least not purposefully. It did little to ease his mind, but he just figured that after four months in Hell Dean had earned a couple of minutes alone with Carly.

Even though it was obvious that later on this situation would become an issue. It was no secret to Sam that Dean obviously still had feelings for his girlfriend.

Inside, Dean and Carly sat on the couch. They sat on opposite ends, although Carly kept her hand wrapped tightly around Dean's, as if to make sure he wouldn't disappear out of thin air.

"So what about you?" Dean finally said. "What're you doing with that teaching degree from Iowa State? You always wanted to be an elementary school teacher."

"That..." Carly let go of Dean's hand and picked some leftover blue polish off her nails, not meeting his eyes. "That didn't end up happening. Things with my dad got rough and I had to leave school early."

"So what are you doing now?" Dean wanted to ask what exactly went so wrong with her dad, but he decided not to push his luck with the fact that she was being nice to him. It seemed like she'd forgotten all about the last time they talked, when she decided she hated his guts.

"A little bit of everything. I was a lifeguard all summer, but obviously I'm not now, in September. Right now I'm a bartender over at the 23rd Street Brewery."

A loud crashing noise distracted them for a moment, but both of them attributed the noise to the powerful wind blowing in a window, and then Sam came inside, tousling his hair from the mess the wind had blown it into.

All of them were oblivious to the fact that, two floors below them, a demon was seeping its way into 84-year-old Laurel Cook's body, with every intention of going to whatever lengths it found necessary to get the Winchester boys' attention.


	4. Castiel

**CHAPTER FOUR: CASTIEL**

Dean stayed on the rickety old couch at Bobby's place. Carly had offered him the couch, which apparently had a fold out bed, which was probably much more comfy than Bobby's old dinosaur of a couch. But Dean had turned down the offer. It would've been too damn depressing to be out on the couch while his little brother was sleeping with the girl Dean still loved curled up to his side.

Besides, Bobby and Dean both agreed they needed to keep Dean's mysterious reincarnation in mind. So they sat up with a couple of beers until midnight, going over what they could do.

With a plan in mind to go visit some psychic named Pamela in Missouri, Dean finally dropped his head back on a pillow and allowed himself to rest for the first time since coming back to life. Every other night since his reincarnation he'd been squatting in old abandoned houses. Now he was in a familiar place and, no matter how uncomfortable the couch was, knowing that everybody he cared about was safe put his mind at ease.

When he woke up and looked outside, Bobby and Sam were getting everything prepared. Dean sighed, tugged on some clean jeans and an old shirt with his jean jacket, and made his way outside.

"I take it Bobby told you about today's little road trip," he said conversationally. Still, it was a tone familiar to both brothers. Dean didn't want Sam to go.

"You're not talking me out of this," was all Sam said back. "You just reappeared from Hell, and for all we know it was just a streak of luck. No way am I letting you out of my sight."

Dean merely shrugged, knowing how stubborn his brother could be when he got his mind set on something. He felt bad making Sammy leave Carly less than a day after he got back from his last "business trip".

"Let's hit the road, boys," Bobby ordered.

Sam and Dean loaded up in the Impala and set off behind Bobby. Neither of them said it out loud, but they both grinned at the normalcy of the situation, and how much they'd missed it.

* * *

Following the disastrous séance with Pamela Barnes, the Winchester boys sat on their beds in a rundown motel in a tiny town in Missouri. Sam had his head in his hands and Dean was continually running his hands through his short hair.

A powerful psychic had tried to get a glimpse at whatever had brought Dean from Hell, and she'd been blinded. Her eyes had _burned _out of their sockets. If Sam or Dean thought this was a joke before, they knew better now.

But they had a name. Castiel.

And Dean had a plan. A way to summon this Castiel and figure out what the hell was going on, why Dean was so special. And what Castiel was, because from what research they'd dug up, he wasn't a human, psychic, demon, or any other creature they'd heard of before.

All he needed to do was wait for Sammy to fall asleep. No way was he going to drag his little brother into this when he was more than willing to bet it would end badly. He wouldn't risk Sam getting hurt, not now, not as soon as he was finally getting over Jess.

A cell phone in the motel room chimed. Sam, recognizing his ringtone for Carly, immediately calmed himself down and answered it with a cheery voice.

"How's the business trip going?"

"It's going." Sam kicked off his boots and laid back on the bed, eyeing the ceiling, which had dirty mirrors on it. "I still don't know how long I'll be. Shouldn't be more than three days, but you never know. How was work?"

"Ugh, don't ask," Carly groaned. "That old pervert Herman Wallace can't take a hint. I would still be stressed over it, but when I got home Mrs. Cook had one of her apple pies waiting for me. She was disappointed she didn't get to talk to you before you left again, but I told her you'd be sure to stop by when you got back. How's Dean? Back from the dead and all." She chuckled lightheartedly at her joke, not realizing that it was a reality.

"He's-" _Gone_. Sam had glanced over to where Dean was sitting, only to find the bed unoccupied and the motel room empty aside from himself. "He's great. Can I call you back tomorrow? It's late and-"

"Sure, sure. Love you."

"You too." Sam hung up and looked again at the empty motel room. "Son of a bitch."

* * *

Considering it was almost one in the morning and Carly was sitting on the couch in her flannel pajamas and a bowl of puppy chow, she nearly jumped out of her own skin when there was a knock at the front door. She yawned and paused her movie, setting her junk food aside and standing up.

_Who the hell is knocking on my door this late?_

She would say it was Sam, as it wasn't a rarity for him to get back home at ridiculous hours, but she'd just gotten off the phone with him and he'd left just this morning.

She pulled the door open to see Laurel Cook standing outside. The old woman had her hair curled up in bright rollers and had on a long nightgown, and she grinned and held a pie out to Carly as if this was a normal thing.

"Uh, Mrs. Cook? Do you realize what time it is?" Carly took the pie from the woman and put it on the counter, next to the three others she'd delivered so far today.

She really was worried about the old lady.

She turned back, ready to escort Mrs. Cook back to her apartment, but instead screamed and backed against the kitchen wall at what she saw.

Mrs. Cook's eyes were solid black.

* * *

The ride back to Lawrence in the Impala was tense. For most of the three-hour ride back Dean blasted his music and Sam shuffled through their father's journal. Anything to avoid speaking to one another.

Sam was livid. Dean had run off to conjure this Castiel figure, only to leave Sam behind? He was sick of being treated like he was the little brother that was such a responsibility. He didn't need taken care of.

But that wasn't what he was furious about. Dean had been raised from Hell by an _angel_, and wouldn't face the fact that this obviously meant something huge. He was too busy being pissed at Sam because he'd channelled into his psychic abilities a little in the past four months.

It wasn't like Sam was hurting anybody. If anything he was doing more good than harm. But Dean didn't understand it. He saw it as evil, as something that symbolized the demon blood in Sam's veins.

Which Sam also hadn't shared with him prior to this trip.

All in all, they were pissed and neither was going to cave first.

Sam had called Carly every night, if not to speak to her to at least let her know they would be one day extra. But following their first day away she didn't answer the phone. He was starting to get worried. His first priority once they got back to Lawrence was to check on her.

Dean, of course, could sense his brother's distress. "What's the problem?" he finally asked, cranking the volume down so that they could hear each other.

"Carly hasn't answered her phone since the day we left. I'm getting worried."

"She's probably just enjoying the single life while you're gone," Dean told his brother with a grin. It was an attempt at a joke to ease the tension, but Sam's worry lines didn't fade away.

"No, it's not like her to not answer. She usually calls me every night. Something has to be wrong."

"So call her dad," Dean suggested. Even though the relationship between Carly and her father Butch was rocky, in all honesty he was the only family she had. She was an only child and her mom ran out before she could even walk.

"He didn't answer either." Sam laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "_That _one doesn't worry me. He probably just got himself thrown in jail again. It's Carly that has me worried."

Dean pressed his foot on the gas pedal, edging the speedometer up to 75. "In twenty minutes time we'll be in Lawrence, and we'll stop by Carly's first thing."

* * *

**Yay, the excitement begins! I know this chapter's pretty choppy with all the time and location skips, but I didn't want to repeat the entire beginning of season 4 because we've already seen it, and I had to keep us up to date on what's going down with Carly and Mrs. Cook!**

**Is Carly likable? **

**-J**


	5. Possessed

**CHAPTER FIVE: POSSESSED**

It was nearly midnight when the Winchesters arrived at Carly's apartment complex, but that didn't stop them from bounding up the stairs with no regards to their level of noise. Both of them only had one thing on their mind: Carly. Nobody answered when they knocked, so luckily Sam had his key out and they were able to barge in quickly.

"Carly?" Sam called as Dean eased the door quietly shut behind them. Sam walked over to the counter, recognizing four of Mrs. Cook's pies. They were old and untouched.

"Carly!" Dean yelled, louder and more demanding than Sam's tone.

Sam went out to the balcony while Dean set off down the hallway, checking each room on the way back and coming up with nothing each time. The bathroom door was locked, but Dean was past the point of knocking. He kicked the door open, both relieved to see Carly there and frazzled at her behavior.

She'd just gotten out of the shower and had a tiny purple towel wrapped around her body. Her skin was wet and glistening and her unbrushed hair was gnarled. But that wasn't what made Dean uneasy; it was her look.

"Hey, Dean." With a flirty smile she stepped so close to him he could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo and she had to look up to see his face. She reached around him to shut the door, and he inhaled sharply when he heard the lock click.

"Carly," he muttered, his eyes automatically fluttering shut at the soft lips skimming teasingly over his jaw.

She was different than she'd ever been before, even different than she'd acted the brief time they'd seen each other four days ago. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of his sweet, innocent Carly being like this, but he was in no position to complain or argue.

"I've missed you these past couple of years," she drawled, draping her arms over his shoulders and pulling him closer to her, backing herself up against the wall.

"Me too," Dean replied hoarsely, fighting the urge to plant his hands at her cheeks and kiss her senseless.

_Think of Sammy_, he ordered himself. This was Sam's girlfriend and, even though every one of his instincts was screaming at him to take total advantage of the situation, he didn't want to do that to his brother.

Carly, seeing that Dean needed more encouragement to make a move, hitched a leg up around Dean's waist, following it soon after with the other one so that all that was holding her up was the wall and Dean's closeness. She caught his head and pulled his lips straight down to hers, and that was the end of Dean's self control.

Four years of pent-up feelings flowed from his mouth to hers, and the familiar feel of her lips beneath his fueled the kiss. He'd kissed-and done a lot more-with dozens of girls since his time with Carly, but none of them ever compared. None of them were ever the same.

Kind of like this time. It was Carly but...it wasn't.

The truth hit Dean like a ton of bricks, and he snapped his head away, forcefully grabbing Carly's biceps and slamming her against the wall. He didn't remove her legs from around his waist because he didn't want her to have any chance of getting away. When she stuttered obliviously, he slammed her into the wall slightly harder.

There. No more blue showed in Carly's eyes-just solid, pitch black.

The demon laughed. "This is kind of hot, Winchester." It cocked Carly's head to the side, a quizzical expression showing on her face. "Although from what I've found digging around in sweet little Carly's mind, she's had some pretty steamy times with little Sammy, too." The demon paused. "Although I don't think she really thinks Sam even compares."

"Shut up!" Dean shouted angrily, directly in Carly's face. Right now he didn't even see Carly; he just saw the sick demon possessing her. "Shut up!"

_Demons lie_, he reminded himself mentally. _They do whatever they can to get to you_.

"Sammy!" he yelled, leaning over and unlocking the door before returning his vise like grip to Carly's arms.

The demon glared at him, Carly's wet hair dropping in front of her face. Sam appeared at the door moments later, and barely had any time to register the scene before him before Dean was explaining.

"She's possessed," Dean told Sam, not looking away from the demon. "I am in no way condoning this psychic bullshit of yours, but I'm not willing to risk Carly with an exorcism, so get it out your way!"

"But don't you want to hear why I'm here?" the demon asked tauntingly. Sam, who'd raised his hand towards Carly, paused, and the demon grinned, seeing a tiny victory. It turned back to Dean, licking Carly's upper lip slowly. "Tell me, Dean-o, what raised you from Hell?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Dean looked back to his brother and nodded. "Do it, Sammy."

Sam held his hand towards Carly and, with the slightest movement of his fingers, pulled the demon out. It screeched in Carly's voice the entire time, but in the end it couldn't fight and Sam killed it.

Carly slumped unconsciously, her legs sliding from around Dean's waist, and Dean eased her gently to the floor, tugging the towel slightly so that it covered everything.

Dean turned to look at Sam, and if looks could kill Sam would've been long dead. "What the hell, Sam?"

"What?" Sam shouted defensively. He'd done nothing wrong. Hell, _he'd _been the one that had gotten the demon out of Carly safely, which his brother had given him the silent treatment for hours for! If anything Dean deserved to be yelled at.

"Why didn't you ever give her an anti-possession charm?"

"I'm not stupid, Dean." Sam lightly smacked the back of his brother's head and squatted down, sliding his arms under Carly and easily lifting her up. "She had a necklace of it but she lost it. Another one's being made right now."

While Dean went to the living room Sam took Carly to their bedroom. He clumsily pushed the blankets back and laid her down carefully, towel and all. After he'd pulled the blankets back up to her chin, he kneeled by the bed. Pushing her damp hair out of her face, he planted a long, soft kiss on her forehead and then straightened up.

He'd almost shut the door behind him when he heard Carly's hoarse whisper.

"Sam?" she uttered.

He turned and reentered the room, going over to the bed. He sat on the edge and lightly ran his hand up and down her back, feeling her shiver.

She looked up at him, blue eyes watery. "You're not an electrical engineer, are you?"

* * *

**I just wanted to thank everybody who has followed/favorited/commented on this story! If you have anything you'd like to see in this story, let me know!**

**-J**


	6. Goodbyes

**CHAPTER SIX: GOODBYES**

"I just... I need some time," Carly explained to Sam and Dean the morning following their return.

Last night Sam had dumped this supernatural hunter stuff on her. She believed it; she had no choice after being possessed. It'd been the worst days of her life. Being there mentally, but having absolutely no say in what her body did. The demon inside her knew all of the ways to torment her, too. It'd dug through her most locked-away memories, it knew the deepest darkest secrets that she'd shared with nobody.

But even though Carly wholeheartedly believed the boys, it didn't mean she would just magically accept it. She needed to take a step back, away from the nightmares and the Winchester brothers.

"Time?" Sam asked, his voice cracking and his puppy dog eyes watery.

"Not like _that_, Sammy," Carly reassured him. She didn't meet Dean's eyes as she stepped forward and hugged Sam. "I just need away from all of this for awhile. Besides, it sounds like you two have work to do."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, not wanting to listen but knowing she was right. It was hard telling how many seals Lilith had broken already, and they were wasting time here.

This was why they tried to avoid connecting with people. The job never allowed them to stay in one place for long. It'd been a mistake for Dean to fall for Carly in the first place, but he'd toughed it out and managed to sever their connections and get out. Now he and Sam both had an additional weakness by coming back to Lawrence for Carly.

"Carly," Dean began, but she cut him off with a firm shake of her head.

"I understand." She released Sam and went to Dean, hugging him.

Dean stiffened at Carly's touch. The last time she'd been against him a demon had been controlling her every move. His relationship with Carly confused him. She had to know he still loved her; why else would he have come back? But until now she hadn't acknowledged or reciprocated his feelings. Maybe he was overlooking a simple hug, but with his arms around her waist it felt like these past couple of years had never happened and they were still together.

"Go," Carly mumbled against Dean's chest. She took another deep breath and added, "You need to. We all know it. What you two do is more important than being with me. Go kill some evil things and I'll be waiting here when you're done."

"We'll never be done," Sam said quietly. Carly let go of Dean and stepped back to look at Sam, who was fighting tears. "As long as there's evil, Dean and I will never be done. And there's always evil somewhere in the world."

"Then go fight it." Carly smiled, but it didn't meet her eyes. "Even if you're never done, I guess that just means I'll never stop waiting."

Sam took a seat, burying his face in his hands while Dean ran a hand through his short hair. Carly's possession had been a wake up call to both of them. Lilith was working towards the apocalypse, and they were the world's only hope. Carly would just have to wait.

"I love you," she announced. "Both of you. So go and save the world, because I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

A lifetime of constant hunts and motels and roadtrips made the Winchester boys expert packers. Sam had kept Dean's things with him while Dean was in Hell, so they both bustled around the bedroom, tossing everything they would need in their suitcases.

It took half an hour for them to be packed and out the door.

Choosing between the Impala and Sam's Camaro wasn't even a decision. Both Sam and Dean wordlessly made their way to the Impala. It wouldn't be right resuming their pasttimes in a car that hadn't seen it all with them.

After switching all of the weapons back from the Camaro to the Impala's trunk and tossing their suitcases in as well, Dean slammed the trunk and the boys both looked to Carly, standing on the sidewalk with her arms crossed.

She was dressed in jean shorts, cowboy boots, and a tight white t-shirt, the required outfit for work. She couldn't believe that she was saying goodbye to the two men she loved, ones who hunted _demons_, and in twenty minutes she would have to go to work and pretend that nothing had changed. That Dean Winchester wasn't back from the dead, ghosts and ghouls were things of scary stories, and the apocalypse wasn't impending.

"Keep an eye on the Camaro," Sam finally said, and he walked up to Carly and dropped the keys in her waiting palm. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver necklace with an anti-possession charm on it. He draped it over her shoulders and clasped it carefully behind her neck before adjusting her hair. "Don't take it off. It'll keep you safe. Also-"

"Salt the doors and windows at night, carry a flask of holy water at all times, and call the second anything weird happens. Got it." She winked, but Sam didn't seem thrilled. "I'll be okay, Sammy. Take care of yourself, don't worry about me."

"I love you." She edged up on her toes, but Sam still had to hunch forward to meet Carly's lips.

Their kiss was passionate, a goodbye between two lovers that'd spent most of the past three months together, grieving for Dean and laughing over dumb jokes and slowly falling in love even though they both felt guilty about it.

Carly had to be the one to break away from Sam, and she buried her face into his jacket, inhaling his scent one last time before releasing him.

Sam, not necessarily wanting to leave Carly and Dean alone but knowing that they deserved a goodbye as well, got into the Impala and kept his eyes on the map, as if they even knew where they were going.

Dean ambled up to Carly, so close his breath rustled her hair and she had to look almost straight up to meet his eyes. He smirked at her the same way he used to when he teased her.

Carly knew exactly what he was up to. Right before she left for college and he went on that big roadtrip with his dad, he was the same way. She hadn't known what he was really up to then, but he was exactly the same way. Goodbyes scared him, being _close _to people scared him, so he made himself as distant as possible.

"Don't do that," she murmured.

"What's that?" he asked, that infuriating smirk still on his face.

"Grin at me like you're not scared."

Dean's lips fell and his eyes showed an unreadable emotion for just a moment before he forced his expression to become stoic. She knew him way too well.

"Dean, I get that things are complicated." Carly glanced down at her feet, then back up at Dean. "But right now you and Sammy can't be worried about me. Just...take care of each other, alright? Do your thing, but be careful. Please." And she closed her eyes and leaned up to kiss him.

Their kiss was different than the one between Carly and Sam. It was slower, gentler, more careful and cautious. It was also nothing like their kisses when they were together, which were wild and passionate. It was sweet.

As Dean pulled away he tried to ignore the uncomfortable sense of déjà vu of seeing Carly shrinking in his rearview mirror, but he was quick to shake the thought out of his head.

"Sammy!" he suddenly yelled.

"What?"

Dean held up a dusty finger than he'd run along the dashboard and pointed it accusingly at Sam. "I thought I told you to take care of the Impala."

Sam just laughed.


End file.
